


Indigo

by hiraeth_chan



Series: When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? *✧･ﾟ:* [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Nakamaship, Not Beta Read, POV Roronoa Zoro, Pining Roronoa Zoro, Romance, The Polar Tang, on the way to Wano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraeth_chan/pseuds/hiraeth_chan
Summary: zorobin, set after zou arc. || “I wouldn’t say youhateme…”, Robin concluded, tipping her head on one side as if at the end of an academic dissertation. “…But I wouldn’t say youlikeme, either”. “You’re right, I don’t like you”.
Relationships: Nico Robin/Roronoa Zoro
Series: When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? *✧･ﾟ:* [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063790
Comments: 19
Kudos: 51





	Indigo

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own One Piece. Anything you recognize belongs to Eiichiro Oda.

Time was more of a construct rather than something _factual_ , Zoro deduced as he stared at the bottom of his jug of sake _. Of course_ , he was aware it still passed, no matter his personal perception of it.  
  
But then, how come the two years he had spent on Kuraigana Island, training with Hawk-Eyes, were the slowest ticking of the clock he ever endured? And how come the few weeks that had passed since reuniting with the crew, on the other hand, just flashed right past him?  
  
It seemed unfair for such a small portion of his journey to feel so heavy on his shoulders, but truth was, stakes were much higher now that they had reached the New World at last.  
  
If recent adventures had taught him anything, it would be that there was no limit to human cruelty and, even then, someone would, somehow, step up and do much, much worse.  
  
It was proven by the fact the crew was split up again because _Big Mom_ , of all people, kidnapped the ero-cook, as ridiculous as it still sounded, and that his group was travelling to Wano, where another Yonko had seized the power in a joint effort with the resident dictator.  
  
They were sailing there after a brief stint in Zou, whose population had been half-massacred by chemical weapons, and this only after a _lovely_ stay in Dressrosa, where Shichibukai Donquixote Doflamingo had kept more than half the population _enslaved_ for ten years straight.  
  
Good things had happened, too, and he was happy to have his nakama back, but there were days he just couldn’t help it but feel overwhelmed by the amount of _shit_ the World Government pulled off on a daily basis.  
  
They called it _justice_ , but there was nothing even remotely decent in the way they perpetrated a scheme where certain human-beings were worth more than others, and the former could dispose of the latter however they pleased. No matter the chain-reaction they set off in Sabaody, Zoro could have never regretted the actions they had been required to perform in order to free Camie from her captors.  
  
Ironic how the Navy would be an accomplice in the enslavement of those same people they claimed to protect from pirates, and that them, the pirates, had been the only ones who cared enough to stand up against the Celestial Dragons.  
  
A herd of brainless pigs and hypocrites, that was what the Marines were.  
  
_The whole lot_.  
  
There were probably some honourable exceptions among their ranks, like the smoke-guy’s disciple who looked like a grown-up version of Kuina and whose name he could never remember, but, overall, he felt as if it was the institution itself that was too rotten, too corrupted to be salvaged by something as non-radical as reform.  
  
It was their whole world order that needed some serious reconsideration.  
  
Zoro chugged another sip, then looked down at the liquor again. He would have ran out soon.  
  
Sure, he could sneak into the kitchens at night and steal more sake, but it had been a day and a half since they boarded the Polar Tang and he locked himself up in his cabin, so having a meal would have probably been the best course of action here.  
  
His crewmates were likely worried about him, and he, too, was worried about them.  
  
He was grateful for Law’s past and current help and he believed in their alliance, but that didn’t mean the Heart Pirates weren’t strangers, and that it wouldn’t take a little more than a ride to Wano for the swordsman to trust them.  
  
Maybe he was being too cautious, though. Their Captain had proven to be more than reliable and certainly committed to their shared cause, not to mention he had been untrusting before, and it led to Robin thinking it was _okay_ to sacrifice herself for the crew rather than fight by their side.  
  
She never admitted to it, but he knew he was bound to be at least _one_ of the reasons she had used to feel as if she didn’t belong with the Straw-Hat crew. _That_ , or he was projecting his need to be incisive in her existence.  
  
He wouldn’t unpack all of that now.  
  
Even something as simple as looking at her was starting to cause him physical pain, for he had spent two years telling himself he would have given it a go as soon as they were reunited, that he would have regretted it if he at least didn’t make an attempt at pursuing this weird thing he felt for her, but now that they were together again he found himself unable to move whenever she got a little too close.  
  
On such an assumption, there was no way something between them could even start before he found a way to get over himself. The fact he didn’t mind the age-gap didn’t mean _she_ wouldn’t, that is if she was even interested in him _at all_ , which he doubted, and Zoro knew he still acted like a child sometimes.  
  
Besides, there was _competition_ now.  
  
He was not blind. Robin seemed uncharacteristically fond of a certain _Surgeon of Death_ , and sometimes he couldn’t help it but wonder why.  
  
Did she just enjoy him as someone to talk to, or did she maybe feel for Law the same way he felt about her? He couldn’t tell unless he asked her, but he wasn’t sure he _ever_ would.   
  
Some things were probably better when left unsaid.  
  
He would have hated it if the whole group’s dynamics were forever ruined because of him.  
  
_Here_. He had done it again. He had tried to steer clear of certain thoughts and literally drowned in them instead.  
  
Suddenly, there was knock on the door. It was softer than Franky’s, slower than Usopp’s.  
  
He really hoped it had been Bepo’s furry paw to produce such a delicate sound.  
  
“Zoro? Are you okay?”  
  
_Fuck_. 

* * *

His head spun when he got to his feet, out of balance because of the alcohol and self-commiseration alike.  
  
The metal door slid on its hinges and, as it opened, it revealed the archaeologist’s slender frame. She was still a bit taller than him, nothing extreme but just enough to force him to tilt his head back if he wanted to look up at her face.  
  
She was frowning, glancing back down at him as if he was some small child who had terribly disappointed her, and there was nothing he could do to stop a furious blush from spreading across his cheeks, half-embarrassment and half-frustration.  
  
He wished he was brave enough to tell her _why_ he had been acting so weird lately.  
  
“Everything’s fine”, he lied. “Things are just a bit _too chaotic_ on this ship for my taste”.  
  
The Heart Pirates were one of the quieter crews out there and his dishonesty could be smelled from miles of distance, _especially_ by someone who had travelled aboard the Thousand Sunny, but Nico Robin pretended she didn’t notice the utter lack of coherence in his words and continued to stare down at him, a small smile now plastered on her plump lips.  
  
“Mh-mh”, she nodded, just once, almost dismissively. She seemed to know that she wouldn’t be getting any reliable information while he was in such a state. “I haven’t seen you in days”.  
  
Her remark was so casual it could have been addressed to anyone, but it was still very unsettling.  
  
His remaining eye searched for the almost empty jug sitting on the bedside table, and Zoro wished he could turn back time and finish it _before_ opening the door and making such a fool of himself. At least _then_ , hopefully, he would have been too drunk to care.   
  
“I just needed to catch up with an old friend”, he uttered, delivering the first plausible excuse he had for his behaviour. Luffy did not trust the swordsman with half of the crew for him to act like an idiot. “ _Did you need something_?”  
  
Zoro knew he sounded cold most times, off-putting even, like someone a normal person would rather _not_ socialize with, but he instantly regretted asking her that question when something akin to pain flashed in her blue eyes.  
  
“ _We_ were just worried about you”, she replied a second later.  
  
Robin was still standing outside his room, which was awkward, but, when he gestured for her to come in, she shook her head and took a step back.  
  
“I was on my way to the library, so I’ll be leaving now…”, she added. “…I’m sorry I’ve bothered you, but you should really show up for dinner tonight. It’ll be little over a week before we get to Wano and Kinemon said he has an announcement to make. Whatever that is, I’m sure you don’t want to miss it”.  
  
The smile on her lips was made of pure ice as she waved her hand at him and started walking away, leaving him drunk, guilty and confused on the threshold of his cabin.  
  
“I’ll be there!”, he hollered, staring at her retreating back as it disappeared around the corner.  
  
Zoro closed the door and returned to his double-bed, where he then grabbed a hold of the jug, bringing it to his lips. He took a long sip, savouring the last drops of alcohol as they burned their way down his throat.  
  
While he recognized he hadn’t been exceptionally welcoming just now, his _rough personality_ , for lack of a better term, had never been an issue on the Sunny. So, what made it so offensive on the Polar Tang?  
  
Maybe the archaeologist had just gotten more _sensitive_ in the past two years, and she was still pissed about his comment in Zou about how _stupid_ it was to get sad over a drawing. But Trafalgar Law had said the same thing, and Robin didn’t seem quite as mad where he was concerned.  
  
And wasn’t she just directed to the library, which, he recalled from the tour of the ship they were given upon arrival, happened to be located right next to the Captain’s quarters?  
  
What if it was already too late, and she and Law were already _more_ than an ill thought in his head?  
  
Even if that was the case, there wasn’t much Zoro could do besides from letting go. Robin was her own person, she was entitled to feel attracted to someone, even if that someone was _someone else_.  
  
Honestly, the _Surgeon of Death_ was probably a better match for the _Devil Child_ than he could ever hope to be.  
  
What truly mattered was her happiness, not whomever made that happen.  
  
He would just have to learn how to long and ache for her from the side-lines.  
  
And to keep it a secret. 

* * *

Kinemon’s announcement turned out to be more hype than substance.  
  
The green-haired swordsman sat awkwardly with his crewmates in the Polar Tang’s cafeteria, a guest at the captain’s table.  
  
While his nakama blended quite nicely into the Heart Pirates, Zoro was having a harder time adjusting.  
  
Their allies had different habits, a different notion of personal boundaries, but to him they were just means to an end. He stood by this alliance because that was what _his_ captain wanted.   
  
He saw how it was beneficial for crew, he was aware of the immense help they had been in the past, it was not his job to produce an opinion on it.  
  
Even if he _hated_ the alliance, he would have never uttered a word against it.  
  
With the belief Luffy would one day become the Pirate King also came the implicit duty to follow his design, no matter how inconspicuous, rushed, unpolished it sometimes looked.  
  
Somehow, it never failed.  
  
“I don’t see what all the fuss was about”, Usopp polemicized. “We already knew that getting into Wano would be hard. God forbid something comes easy for us just _once_ ”.  
  
He didn’t let himself be bothered by the marksman’s reply. They would have crossed that bridge when they got to it.  
  
_She_ was sitting on the opposite side of the table, head perched on the palm of her hand, half-listening on the present conversation, half-lost in her thoughts. This was quite peculiar of Robin, how she sometimes seemed to be in two different places at once, her eyes set on something and her mind chasing something else entirely.  
  
The archaeologist, too, didn’t look too pleased with Kinemon’s speech, but she didn’t care enough to comment on it.  
  
This woman had an odd, unpretentious grace, and whilst he had found it unintelligible when they first met, like some sort of secret he was supposed to crack, now he just thought it was endearing.  
  
Funny how two years with his sworn enemy and an annoying ghost-princess as his only company had made him _softer_ somehow, at least when it came to her. Maybe it was because he had thought about her constantly in the two years the crew had been apart, maybe because some of those thoughts had been anything _but_ decent.  
  
_Maybe both_.  
  
Before his brain could derail too much, Law’s voice pierced through the air and forbade him. He was grateful and irked at the same time, and it probably showed on his face, because Franky shot him a funny look.  
  
“We should start planning ahead _regardless_ of what Kinemod said”, he said before turning to Momonosuke, a habitual guest of the captain’s table as well. “I am glad to be of service and help your country, but I won’t just carelessly be throwing my crew in the way of danger. We need to know what’s waiting for us in Wano”.  
  
“We would never ask you to do so, Trafalgar-san”, retorted the samurai as he made his way back to the group from where he had just given his speech. The frown on his face was a deep line, it circled his mouth and made him look way older than he actually was. “Truth is, neither of us has been home in quite some time now”.  
  
Sitting on the chair on his left, Kanjuro brushed off an invisible tear and patted his friend on the shoulder. There was a crack in his white, heavy face of makeup when he lifted off his finger.  
  
“Kaido and Orochi seized the country twenty years ago”, he supplied, wistfully. “It’s their palace, and the people of Wano have become their servants…”  
  
When he exited the cafeteria after dinner, Zoro was even more confused. It sure seemed there was a lot to be unpacked about the land of samurais, Kaido and whatever the other guy was called, but this challenge also appeared to be right up Luffy’s ally.  
  
He was infamous for his tendency to fight injustice, and one of the many reasons the Straw-Hats had all decided to follow him and trust him with their dreams.  
  
He didn’t retrieve more sake and planned on having an early night, but just as he was about to change out of his clothes, shirt half unbuttoned and everything, the swordsman was startled by a knock on the door for the second time today.  
  
It was frantic this time, in both pace and intensity, anxious even. _Usopp_.  
  
He opened the door.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
The sniper was not standing by himself in the corridor, but with the half-cyborg, who looked not as distressed, but certainly just as nervous.  
  
Zoro wondered what this was all about.  
  
It wasn’t like Franky to be so easily dragged into their crewmate’s schemes.  
  
He started redoing the buttons of his shirt.  
  
“We’ll tell you once we get to Robin”, Usopp replied. “Come with us, _please_ ”.  
  
Zoro followed the other two up and down the Polar Tang’s corridors, turning left and right when they did, without uttering a word. He knew they wouldn’t answer his questions now, anyway, and he was too tired to engage in small talk.  
  
The walk to the woman’s room took no longer than five minutes.  
  
The door opened and Robin appeared, clad in a dark purple robe. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and she looked as if she had been just about to go to bed for the night. He could sympathize with that.  
  
As she threw some clothes on inside her en-suite bathroom, the other three made themselves at home by sitting on a circle on the floor and noticed, not without a certain amount of malice, that the archaeologist’s room was much cooler than the ones they had been given. For Zoro, that was undeniable proof the captain of this ship liked her.  
  
_But how could he blame him, when there was nothing there not to like?_

* * *

They ended up having a nicer evening than they had expected.  
  
Talking about what happened next took no longer than twenty minutes even with all of Usopp’s fears and perplexities thrown in the mix, and eventually no conclusion was reached for lack of fundamental information.  
  
Wano was seldom mentioned in history books, much to Robin’s dismay.  
  
(She was the one who usually did the research for the Straw-Hats).  
  
What Zoro knew of it because of his time with Koshiro only concerned swordsmanship, which his mentor had studied in his motherland, but other than that there was not enough details to come up with any sort of ploy, and they would all just have to trust Kinemon when the time came, hoping at least _he_ knew what he was doing.  
  
In the privacy of the archaeologist’s cabin, the topics discussed easily shifted to more personal matters, like what they had done in the two years they were separated or how they felt about all the new information they had recently found out about Raftel.  
  
Despite the absence of half the crew, the swordsman had to admit that it was still nice to spend some time with his friends. Even though he considered himself a loner, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy hanging out with his nakama occasionally. It felt _natural_ , somehow.  
  
The Straw-Hats had spent less time with each other than most crews in the New World, but their bond seemed deeper sometimes, as if being apart, in some twisted away, had made them closer.  
  
They surely didn’t want to go through all that again, which was why the current split in their group was so hard to endure and they worried constantly about Luffy and the others, who were sailing for Whole Cake Island and sneaking into the territory of yet another Yonko, Big Mom.  
  
He had no idea what had prompted the _shitty_ -cook to behave as he did, but he hoped he had a damn good excuse, or else he shouldn’t bother coming back.  
  
_At all_.  
  
He still stood by the things he had said in Water 7, when it had been Usopp’s time to doubt the crew’s devotion to each of its members. Only it felt so out of character for Sanji to act like that, he wasn’t the type who disappeared quietly.  
  
If anything, the blond menace was _loud_ – whether he hummed a song as he cooked, swooned over the girls or yelled at the swordsman, people were always notified whenever he entered a room, leather shoes tapping rhythmically on the floor, followed by the light “ _click_ ” of his gold lighter, which made it impossible not to notice if he was missing.  
  
“…Do you think they’ll be fine?”  
  
A weird gloom fell over the room as their distant companions were mentioned.  
  
Usopp’s question hung in the air, heavy and riddled with implications neither Straw-Hat really wanted to consider.  
  
Luffy would have never let something happen to the others, and vice-versa, but _still_ ; as much as the whole crew had grown monstrously in strength over the past two years, and especially the captain, the level of their opponents had skyrocketed as well.  
  
There was no denying Big Mom was a fierce, lethal opponent, possibly the _toughest_ they were yet to face, and it was _her_ territory they were supposed to get in and out of without as much as raising suspicion from the Yonko.  
  
“Nami-sis will keep them in check”, said Franky, not even bothering trying to strike his usual pose. “I know stealth isn’t his _forte_ , but I want to hope Luffy meant it when he said he would avoid a fight”.  
  
“What if the fight doesn’t avoid Luffy instead?”  
  
There was a fierce glint in the archaeologist’s eyes as she answered Zoro’s question.  
  
“Then he will fight, and he will _win_ ”, she declared, her voice free from doubt, before her lips curved into her usual morbid smile, as if assuming the worst was her coping mechanism, “Or perhaps he won’t, and one of these days the seagulls will bring us the paper, and in that paper there will be news of our crewmates’ deaths at the hands of a Yonko, and in turn we’ll be disband and drift away in the wind until there will be nothing left of us but a speckle of dust…”  
  
“ _Jeez_ , Robin”, Usopp piped up. “There’s no need to make it more depressing than it is”.  
  
“Isn’t it? Of course, we could pretend everything is fine, but look where _that_ landed us two years ago in Sabaody”, she retorted. “I don’t like it that they’re going alone into uncharted territory. I don’t like it that Sanji felt so threatened he didn’t put up a fight. I don’t like it that Chopper…”  
  
She hesitated then, her voice breaking as her thoughts turned darker.  
  
“…What do you think it’ll happen to Chopper if the Marines get their hands on him? You have seen his bounty… They think he’s a _pet_! One hundred fucking belies! They experiment on children, what do you think they will do to what they perceive as a reindeer with a Devil Fruit, _uh_? And what to say of Cook-san turning out to be a Vinsmoke? Germa 66 is famous for its cruelty. I, for one, am not surprised he never mentioned them”.  
  
If this wasn’t their beautiful, quiet, dreadfully collected archaeologist, the men in the room would have thought she was _panicking_. Her breath was laboured, her blue eyes reduced to ominous slits, body parts they were sure weren’t consciously sprouted appeared here and there at regular intervals.  
  
Usopp winced when he felt an ear germinating on his _derriere_.  
  
“They will be fine”, he asserted, eager to soothe the woman before things got out of control and she ended up hurting, or worse, _castrating_ , one of her crewmates.  
  
“Besides, why are you assuming the crew would disband? If anything was to happen to Luffy, which I doubt, there’s no way I’d get one of these two out of my sight…”, he paused, pointing a finger at the swordsman and shipwright, then at Robin, “Or you for that matter. Didn’t you say your specialty is assassination?”  
  
It was a weak attempt, Usopp recognized it, but reminiscing of simpler times, of the bizarre interview the algid Baroque Works former member had sat through as she entertained Luffy and Chopper with her (then) strange powers, seemed to work. Nico Robin inhaled, sharply, fixing her eyes on the floor.  
  
When she casted them upwards again, a moment later, there was no trace of her previous anguish in her face, although Zoro could pinpoint exactly which corners of her soul were currently under attack.  
  
He would have liked nothing more than to be the one to erase her concerns, but he had found himself unable to, because they matched his own.  
  
As much as the little guy had become tougher and trained with all his might over the past two years, sea-stone could still annihilate him instantly, and it didn’t help that he was always more preoccupied with healing everyone on the battlefield, friend or foe, than watching his back. Normally it would have been Zoro who made sure no enemy could as much as put a scratch on the young reindeer, he hadn’t slaved under Hawk-Eyes’ mentorship for his nakama to be hurt by the first nobody, but the swordsman wasn’t there now to guard Chopper’s back as he worked his magic on open wounds and broken hearts alike, and Yonko Big Mom surely wasn’t a nobody.  
  
His acquaintance with the Shichibukai also came with the additional _perk_ of knowing more about the way the World Government did things, namely killing and torturing innocent people, so he understood why Robin, whose life had been literally ruined by it, could grow very anxious at the idea of the Straw-Hats’ doctor crossing their path.  
  
“You’re quite right, Usopp”, the archaeologist quipped, “You wouldn’t believe the things I did out of necessity”.  
  
“Enough, Robin-sis”, Franky intervened. “Don’t scare the kid”.   
  
“ _Oi_! Why am I the only one you’re calling a kid?”  
  
“ _That_ ’s what bothers you, Nose-san?”, Robin joined the blue-haired shipwright in the banter.   
  
“Zoro-bro cut a literal mountain”, the cyborg concluded. “No kid that I personally met could do that”.   
  
The swordsman didn’t add anything, just relishing in the familiar sensation that bubbled up in his chest when he heard one of his crewmates laugh.  
  
Usopp’s made him think of dubious experiments, quick thinking and the vow to strive everyday to become a better version of himself, whilst Franky’s turned his thoughts to Water 7, to the children he had helped raising for a couple of days, to a near stranger risking everything by their side to save a woman he had just met, to wondrous, last-minute escapes with the help of the dream-ship he had so carefully crafted for the crew.  
  
It was Robin’s chuckle, however, low and melodious, that set his heart on fire.  
  
“Anyway, we should probably head back to our cabins now…”  
  
Now that the tension had been diffused, the sniper wanted nothing more than to return to the privacy of his room, where he could reflect over what just transpired a little more seriously.  
  
The others often pegged him as _naïve_ , but it wasn’t like Usopp, too, wasn’t concerned about his distant crewmates’ wellbeing; he just preferred to have a positive outlook on things, so that his insides didn’t squirm and he didn’t find himself paralyzed with fear as he lied in his bed at night.  
  
“I’m sure this area of the submarine his nice and soundproofed, but downstairs the walls are as thin as paper. I better fall asleep before the people next door decide to _spar_ at night, again…”   
  
Truth was, the members of the Heart Pirates who slept in the room next to his weren’t exactly engaging in that kind of physical contact, but Yasopp’s only son would have rather died before admitting that he just stood there, every night, usually past the witching hour, which was fast approaching, and listened numbly as moans and _flapping_ sounds reverberated through his cabin.  
  
Zoro nodded his head in acknowledgement as he left, then watched the shipwright do the same with a similar excuse. He couldn’t relate to their issue; as far as he knew, his cabin was the only one on the floor, nested inside the deepest section of the _Tang_ , and he was very grateful to Trafalgar Law for respecting his need _not_ to socialize.  
  
He had enough room to train, and his own bathroom, albeit small and furnished with only the bare necessities.  
  
For once, the swordsman even slept on a mattress rather than a hammock or the Sunny’s lawn-deck, but his slumber had become restless ever since they had boarded the submarine, he often woke up drenched with sweat as old and new nightmares blurred into each other, forcing one hellish cocktail down his throat.  
  
Sometimes it was Kaku prevailing in Enies Lobby, and Spandam triggering the Buster Call with the Straw-Hats still in it, others it was Kuina taunting him after Bartholomew Kuma killed his nakama instead of separating the crew. Some nights Pica landed the final blow on Robin, and he couldn’t cope with his grief, more rarely he was reminded of the rare appearances she had made in Paradise, before joining the crew.  
  
If his conscience worried about those members of the Straw-Hats who were currently sailing towards a different location, the unconscious part of Zoro often focused on the archaeologist.  
  
He couldn’t believe he had almost lost her so many _fucking_ times, and yet she still acted as if nothing could harm her in his presence, as if just the fact he was there meant no one could lay a finger on her.  
  
That was most definitely one of his long-term goals, although it kind of extended to the whole crew (even the shitty-cook), but he knew he didn’t deserve the unconditional trust she seemed to place on him.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”

* * *

“ _Uh_?”   
  
“Something’s on your mind”, Robin stated, simply. “I can tell”.   
  
Her blue eyes were trained on him, studying the man still sitting on the floor. He was resting his back at the end of her mattress and green strands of hair brushed her left thigh whenever he moved his neck.  
  
The swordsman appeared deep in thought, locked up in the tower of steel she pictured his mind as.   
  
His eyebrows narrowed.  
  
“Nothing you should worry about”, Zoro said. It was bad enough she had almost died a handful of times whilst he should have been protecting her, he would never let her bear the the toll keeping the _count_ was taking on him. “Just swordsmen’s things, you know…”   
  
The archaeologist didn’t buy it, not even a little, and it was clear by her expression, but she relented. She didn’t seem in the mood to question him, which was odd, because Nico Robin was one of the most curious, most inquisitive people he knew. She wanted to know what was happening and why at all times, a habit ingrained in her by a lifetime at sea.  
  
“Perhaps I can provide a distraction, _then_ ”. A phantom hand, now willingly summoned, produced a jug of sake, passing it to another and then another until it landed on Zoro’s lap. “You seem most willing to share some of these _swordsmen’s things_ , as you called them, after you’ve had a couple of glasses”.  
  
He couldn’t find enough strength in himself to argue with that.  
  
There was no turning down Robin once she decided she wanted to pick on your brain, not without being unnecessarily cruel, a mistake which he had long since promised himself he would not repeat.  
  
If the World Government was to threaten the Straw-Hats again, Zoro wanted her to know that he would have been by her side just as much as anybody else, if not more, because the idea of something ever happening to her was just sickening; now, they were pirates, so chances were she would get injured as port after port they sailed their way to Raftel, but he was determined to protect her, and everybody else, to the best of his possibilities and until he drew his last breath.  
  
Robin gave him the time to adjust to the change in the atmosphere, and to gather his thoughts. She knew he wasn’t a man of many words, but where those sometimes lacked, he more than made up for them with his actions.  
  
Zoro opened the bottle and offered it to her, chugging down the first gulp only after she shook her head in refusal. She poured herself a glass of wine instead, again using her wickedly helpful devil-powers so phantom limbs would do the manual work in her place, but she was much less feral than him in the way she sipped from it.  
  
It took a good five to ten minutes, during which they just sat next to each other in companionable silence, but eventually the swordsman looked away from the bottle and stared up at the woman.  
  
“I was just thinking… Usopp had a point earlier”, he hesitated, not sure whether it was fine if he brought up the subject once more. It had taken a discreet effort on the sniper’s part to cheer up, after all.  
  
More importantly, Zoro feared the moment the sake would get the best of him (he was resistant, but he was still _human_ ) and the wrong words would stumble out of his mouth. What if he accidentally told her that he would happily give away the one eye he had left and just rely on _Kenbunshoku Haki_ during fights if it meant he could shelter her from danger? What if he point-blank admitted he would run a thousand miles just to know what she tasted like?  
  
“Why do you assume we would just go our separate ways?”  
  
Robin showed him an enigmatic smile, reclining her head on one side so that her long, dark hair would fall over her face like a curtain, shadowing her eyes.  
  
“ _Oh_ , that. I just imagined, if only the four of us were to survive, that Franky wouldn’t have a captain to sail him across the whole world, therefore making his dream unfeasible, while Usopp would probably go back to that girl he left at his village. He is already a _brave warrior of the sea_ , even though he hasn’t realized that yet… As for you”, she paused then, pinning him down with her beautiful eyes. “Well, with only you and I left we couldn’t even maintain a ship big enough to travel the New World, so I’m not sure I could help you achieve your goal. But I stand by what I said before that. Should the occasion arise, Luffy won’t let us down”.  
  
“You’re right. The rest of the crew is in good hands”, he nodded. The swordsman really tried to stop there, to keep it short and sweet, but he had heard the echo of a strange sadness as she talked about him, and something furious rumbled in his chest, prompting him to correct her _oh-so-wrong_ assumption, “However, there’s no way I’d let you get rid of me that easily. I think we've made it abundantly clear by now that no one gets left behind. Maybe Franky and Usopp would leave in that scenario, but you? You’re stuck with me”.

* * *

Robin moved to the floor, where she sat very close to him.  
  
She smelled like flowers, and _happiness_ , but the swordsman refused to look at her. Only being next to her put him on edge, it made him red-faced and certainly not as smooth as it would have been naturally expected from the future strongest-swordsman-in-the-world.  
  
His thoughts raced and overlapped, aided by the sake he gulped down from time to time.   
  
The archaeologist was reaching the bottom of her second glass of wine, a flattered grin stretched across her lips, but other than that she remained silent, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.  
  
Then she rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
“You know, Zoro”, she trailed off, her voice lowering as if she was about to share a secret with him, “I don’t think I have properly thanked you for saving me from Pica. I can count on one hand the number of times I have felt so powerless in my life”.  
  
“Don’t even mention it”, he grunted back.  
  
What kind of _bullshit_ was that?  
  
Since when did his nakama feel obliged to thank him for just carrying out what was his main purpose in their lives, the safeguard who would keep danger at bay?  
  
Now that he thought about it, however, the archaeologist had thanked him, sometimes with her words and sometimes with her gestures, every single time he had rescued her from an ill-intentioned enemy or did something even remotely related to keeping her, well, _safe_.  
  
Did Robin still think, after all they had been through together, that he helped her only out of obligation, because Luffy had said she could join and therefore Zoro had been forced to accept it?  
  
So many things had happened since then, even picturing that scenario gave him a slight whiff of nausea, because that would mean he had failed, over the past two years and since their stint in Enies Lobby, to ensure she knew that he treasured her just as much as every other member of the crew.  
  
Even more so, and in a deeper, more intimate way, but that was besides the point.  
  
“Robin”, he called out, savouring the way her name rolled out of his tongue. It was an understated sound, vibrating and then sweet.  
  
“If I had to describe what I think about you, what kind of words do you believe I would use?”  
  
“That’s a very strange question”, the woman quipped. She poured herself another glass of wine and drunk from it, refusing to continue until he finally looked back at her. “At the top of my head, I’d say I’m _useful_ , as the only person who can read the Poneglyphs for the captain and the one who most frequently stops our doctor from falling overboard, but I’m also _high-maintenance_ , considering how often you have to jump in and rescue me…”  
  
She laughed at that, but it was a mirthless sound. Zoro couldn’t believe those were the first things that she would think of. Of course, she was all _that_ , but she was also _so much more_.  
  
“Sometimes you get quiet when I’m nearby, like even the thought I’d hear your voice _offends_ you”, she resumed, now straightening up her back and fixing him with a glare that made him wish he never asked that question. There was so much pain simmering right beneath the surface, as with each word she piled after the other he felt smaller and guiltier. “You also don’t seem very fond of me touching you”, Robin added, poking him at the side. “At least you don’t draw your swords when I approach you anymore... But you’re always there when I need you the most, and you never failed me once, so I’m afraid I can’t be of much help, because I have absolutely no idea what goes on in your head, not where I am personally concerned”.  
  
“ _Ah_ , is that so?”  
  
The swordsman set down the bottle for later. He turned his upper body around to scrutinize her face better, mesmerized by her beauty and at the same time hurt by how sincerely haunted she looked, like a broken doll.  
  
It seemed that thinking of him as the one person who still held her past against her triggered old insecurities, brought back up memories she had buried deep inside, beneath her endless knowledge and undeniable grace.  
  
(It maddened him that he was so _damaged_ he had never found the right words to straighten things out, to tell her that he had only been suspicious at first out of concern for the rest of the group, who had trusted her instantly.)  
  
“I wouldn’t say you _hate_ me…”, Robin concluded, tipping her head on one side as if at the end of an academic dissertation. “…But I wouldn’t say you _like_ me, either”.   
  
“You’re right, I don’t like you”, Zoro replied, his face unreadable. Hurt flashed in the depths of her eyes, tugging painfully at his heart, and he cursed himself for the poor wording. Again, this wasn’t his area of expertise – but she was worth it, worth the discomfort and the potential rejection. His only eye trailed down, halting on her lips. “I _love_ you”.

* * *

The archaeologist blinked, the delicate features of her face morphing into an expression he was quite sure he had seen only once before, as perched on top of the Tower of Justice, staring down at the Straw-Hats with tearful eyes, she shouted from the top of her lungs that she did _want_ to live, she did _wish_ to be part of the rest of their journey.  
  
For someone that was so adept at hiding how she truly felt, Zoro couldn’t believe how many emotions ran across the woman’s face all at once, her fingers trembling as she gulped down the last of her wine, letting his words sink in.  
  
“I love you”, he repeated, with steadier voice. “I get very quiet, but that’s because I’m often unsure whether I’ll manage to come up with something smart enough not to offend _you_ , and _yes_ , I may freeze a little if you touch me, but what else am I supposed to do? It’s hard enough not to listen to the voice in my head that screams for me to _jump_ on you…”  
  
Robin’s lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but he couldn’t relent now that he was finally pouring it all out.  
  
It was _now_ , or _never_.  
  
If she still felt as if he didn’t _trust_ her, as if he didn’t _want_ her in the crew after almost three years in which she had been his first conscious thought in the morning, then maybe it was time to come clean, to act with the same determination that would be required of him _when_ he became the strongest-swordsman-in-the-world, because while he could live with the idea of rejection, he found it unacceptable that she still felt so _precarious_.  
  
He didn’t cut his way through Enies Lobby only for the World Government to win, two years later, because the Straw-Hats’ archaeologist believed the first mate wasn’t quite convinced they had done the right thing.  
  
He felt nauseous, again. Zoro drew a sharp breath, then, “I’m always there because I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to a member of this crew and I can’t protect _them_ , but I find it that I downright can’t imagine myself wanting to live _at all_ , should that something ever happen to _you_ ”.   
  
He closed his mouth and his chest deflated, face and body flushed. It wasn’t like the swordsman to be so articulate, Robin was usually the one doing most of the talking between the two, but he hoped he had gotten his thoughts across, that she could see how words couldn’t properly express how much he valued her presence in his life.  
  
The smile she flashed him next, pearly white teeth peeking from behind her upper lip, was one Zoro would have remembered for the rest of his days, warm and reassuring, sending an odd jolt of pleasure down his spine.  
  
“I’m not sure I understand…”, she trailed off, as one hand reached up and flattened against the side of his face in a featherlight caress, blue, gleaming eyes squinting slightly as her grin finally settled. “…But I _believe_ you”.  
  
Zoro leaned into her touch, letting his eyelid slid shout. Her fingertips were like scorching projectiles as they traced his temple, cheekbone and jaw, landing on his chin.  
  
Then they ascended upwards, brushing over his lips, and nose, until they finally stopped on the vertical slash covering his left eye.  
  
She had never asked how the scar ended up on his face, and he had never told her, but there was no denying how strongly he felt the urge to do it now. As her hand reached up once more and she threaded her fingers through his hair, he knew that in the moment she could demand _anything_ from him, and he would oblige her.  
  
She was _yet_ to elaborate on his confession, but strangely he didn’t feel as embarrassed as he had always thought he would. In his mind, she had never reacted quite so… _peacefully_.  
  
Daydreams usually ended up with the archaeologist screaming at him, stepping away and letting him know, using no middle-terms, that he didn’t stood a chance with her; in his sleep, however, on those rare nights his nightmares didn’t come to visit, it was with a different kind of passion burning in her veins that Robin acknowledged his feelings for her.  
  
Both scenarios could still happen, albeit the former was more likely than the latter, he considered, but for now he was content to just remain where he was, breathing in her scent, white lily and freesia.  
  
(It reminded him of the flowers she had planted exceptionally close to what had been one of his less habitual spots for napping, which had then become the one he visited most frequently as nothing relaxed him and lulled him to sleep as those odorous blossoms did.)  
  
The warmth she emitted, just as vibrant, slowly but steadily soothed him into innocent bliss, comforting him in ways that would always make him, from this day forward, berate himself for not pursuing it, and _her_ , earlier.   
  
“Zoro?”  
  
“ _Mmh_?”  
  
“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

* * *

It was a wild tangle of limbs, of hands gripping tightly at the other’s body, as if they could disappear at any given moment.  
  
His eye shut open, then closed again when Zoro’s mouth crashed down on hers as his arms wrapped around her slender frame, one hand clutching the hair on the nape of her neck as the other jolted down to rest on her hip, hot lips grazing every inch of her rounder, plumper ones. His brain started working at less than _half_ its usual capacity as Robin returned his kiss, tilting her head slightly on the right to give him better access, but from there on, what rumbled in the depths of his chest was anything _but_ innocent.  
  
Her arms circled his neck as she leaned forward, draping her soft body over the swordsman’s.  
  
Absent-mindedly, he thought the wine he could still taste on her lips, mixed with something sweet he couldn’t quite describe, because it reminded him of a scent rather something you eat, was of the same shade of the blood rushing through his veins, pooling down somewhere beneath his navel.   
  
His tongue hazarded a feathery stroke on her bottom lip, teeth scraping lightly at the sensitive skin. It took but a second for the archaeologist to push her own tongue forward, meeting his as their mouths didn’t quite battle for dominance as much as they partnered in a virtuous dance. _Back and forth_.  
  
It was only for a lack of oxygen that he pulled back after a while, thoughts swirling wildly in his head as he struggled to recompose himself. It was like he had just taken his first breath of fresh air after a lifelong stint in a prison, or as if his swords had cut the _motherfucking_ Earth, for never before had Zoro felt quite as swell, invincible even, as he did now, while he held her close to his chest and stared, forehead to forehead, into her piercing blue eyes.   
  
He had no idea what was going on in her mind, but he didn’t care; the way Robin was looking at his lips was enough invitation to cover them with his once more, and the two fell back again into the same frantic pace. Their mouths carried out the conversation words were failing to sustain, as eager hands explored whatever skin their clothes left exposed.  
  
The archaeologist wasn’t wearing much, just a pair of soft, red cotton shorts and a white tank-top with a cherry painted across her chest, the type of outfit she would only feel comfortable wearing by herself, or around her nakama.  
  
She wasn’t as _flashy_ as Nami in the way she dressed, but she was just as aware, if not more so, of the kind of smoking hot body she packed, or how to flatter it – Zoro had always tried his best to be respectful, but the detail was impossible not to notice as the two female members of the crew frequently sunbathed on the deck, or could often be seen roaming the _Sunny_ while sporting a tiny bikini top and little more; he wasn’t as obvious as the _shitty_ -cook, of course, but he couldn’t deny that his eye would sometimes fall on the archaeologist as she stretched comfortably on the chair with a book in her lap, filing the image away for later appreciation.   
  
Her lips were warm and exceptionally soft, following his with abandon, dainty fingertips threading through the green strands sitting on top of his head.  
  
Ever since he could remember, he had always hated it when people touched his hair: it made him feel exposed, vulnerable, and if just even a little too much pressure was applied the gesture would most definitely turn into a headache; yet, he liked the feel of her digits on his scalp, rubbing small circles on a spot in his body he would have never guessed could be _that_ sensitive.   
  
Robin’s body was very thin, and that the same time very voluptuous.  
  
She weighed next to nothing as he took advantage of his hold on her waist and pulled her closer, sitting the woman on his lap. Her legs were long, shapely, of the same creamy white shade that peeked from her neckline; albeit slender, they wrapped around his hips with unsurprising strength.  
  
(She had asked him for training advice a couple of times, on those rare days she had felt comfortable enough in his presence to do so – Zoro had been surprised by the kind of barbells she had been able to lift. Not the ones he personally used, but heavier than Usopp’s. It was one of the things he admired the most about her, how _strong_ she was).   
  
The swordsman felt the temperature was raising a little too fast as the woman practically melted in his embrace. Sneaking curious hands past the hem of his simple blue shirt, grabbing a handful of the forest green haramaki draped around his waist or yet again tracing every hard line of six-pack, all the while pressing her large, soft breasts against his chest, he didn’t have another way to describe Robin’s kiss other than something her life depended on.  
  
His hands slithered down her sides and further, until they nested under her backside, palming her round cheeks with rough, calloused hands. The throaty moan she then produced in his mouth was soundless, but he could feel it reverberating through and bouncing off his tongue, followed by a small gasp.  
  
Before he could even register what had happened, or relish in the thought he had just elicited such an unmistakable reaction from the usually unreadable and oh-so-collected archaeologist, however, it was Zoro’s turn to groan, sharply, as her fingertips slunk past his waistband and grazed the toned skin around his V-line, heading south.  
  
His eye shut open, and he broke off the kiss.  
  
As blessed as he felt, there would have been no turning back, no second-guessing if they progressed any further.  
  
He placed a wet kiss on one side of her face, then descended with his lips, leaving another right behind her ear, and then another on her jaw.  
  
“Robin…”, he exhaled, brows narrowing as he struggled to keep himself still. “Are you sure?”

* * *

She fixed him with a stern glare, most displeased by the interruption.  
  
Her fingers twitched where they still connected to the warm skin of the southern regions of his body. She let go then, her eyes softening as they glided over his body, stopping only as they bore into his.  
  
Her reply was made up of only three words. Not quite a declaration of love, but one of intent.  
  
“I am yours”.   
  
Robin grabbed the hem of her white top, slowly peeling the garment off.  
  
She didn’t break their eye-contact, but he could tell she felt a little uncertain about what to do next from the way she bit on her lower lip, which he didn’t understand, because the sight that was bared to him was something even his _wettest_ dreams hadn’t been able to conjure up; taut, pink nipples stared at him from her chest, making _that_ , as he would have remembered this night in the future, the precise moment his brain completely shut down.  
  
He lunged forward, not unlike a tiger, or another feline of similar size, did with its prey.  
  
Zoro hugged her, and kissed her again, he traced his fingers down the muscles of her back, now covered in goosebumps because of the sudden change in temperature.  
  
“Alright…”, he chuckled, securing her legs around his waist once more and standing up with one, swift movement.  
  
If anything, all the hours he normally spent on his muscles paid off when he could pull off such a stunt.  
  
He turned around, somewhat roughly slammed her into the mattress and then crawled slowly his way up her body, one hand perusing the soft skin of one of her thighs. Now, the swordsman was fond of _tits_ just as much as the next guy, perhaps even less so, but he fell in love with Robin’s at first sight; he struggled a little to fit them in his hands, and renewed his internal promise of devotion as he gave the first experimental squeeze. _Oh, fuck_.  
  
Zoro moved on to kiss her neck as he fondled her breasts, nibbling tentatively at the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. As her mouth was now free, nothing hid the small cry of pleasure that escaped her lips.  
  
He continued south, tongue, lips and teeth working altogether as they worshipped the soft skin of her collarbone. Featherlike kisses marked the interval with which he would pinch one of her nipples a bit harder.  
  
He could have gone on and on for hours just doing this, but the archaeologist looked quite restless, with her head thrown back, legs squirming beneath his weight, peering at him from behind half-lidded eyes.  
  
Her brows narrowed, and she seemed about to say something, but then her mouth snapped shut, and she effortlessly sprouted a pair of arms on the bed, which took care of the problem that was so greatly displeasing her, namely the fact she was almost completely naked in front of him, only the red shorts covering her from his exam, and Zoro still fully clothed. His shirt was removed, and her real hands rushed down to sample the toned planes of his upper body; quite unsurprisingly, he felt just as hard as he looked upon touching him, and Robin claimed his lips once again.  
  
As she bestowed upon the swordsman the most erotic kiss he had ever received, her message was heard loud and clear.  
  
As much as he would have liked nothing more than to play with her a little and slowly explore every inch of her skin, he understood that the situation called for a certain urgency, because he, too, was finding it increasingly more hard not to let the throbbing erection in his pants take over his precariously rational mind.   
  
“You’re so beautiful”, he muttered as he pulled away, tugging lightly at her shorts and then sliding them down her legs in a deliberately slow move.  
  
He looked up for a moment and showed her a roughish grin upon noticing just how nicely the crimson red underwear snuggled to her most intimate part.  
  
The swordsman grabbed her legs, draping them around his neck, and he kissed her inner thigh. Robin didn’t say anything, but her breath itched, and he could feel from the subtle tension in her adductors that she wasn’t expecting him to go down on her. But _fuck him_ if he didn’t taste her after pining for her so long, two excruciatingly long years of torture. Of course, he had realized he had, _ugh_ , _feelings_ for her only when it had been too late, so now he’d rather cut his own body with all three of his swords than postpone such a moment of truth any longer.  
  
Zoro took some time to make her relax, leaving a trail of wet kisses for the whole length of her leg. He repeated the same process on her other thigh, and only then did his nose brush experimentally over her still covered sex. By this point, the archaeologist was much more pliable to the idea, and nudged him hesitantly with one hand. That was all the permission he needed.  
  
Pushing her panties to the side, he dived in tongue first. His hands clasped her thighs as he lapped cautiously at the sensitive skin, adding a little more pressure with each new stroke of his tongue.  
  
He wasn’t sure why he had been expecting her to make him work _harder_ for it, but Robin hadn’t lasted long; at some point she had fisted his hair, pushed his face a little lower and then, as her hips grinded against his mouth and most of his face got wet, he had _tongue-fucked_ her until she became a quivering mess, thighs snapping hard around his neck and incoherent words (among which, he noted, pridefully, was his name) tumbling out of her lips as she rode out her orgasm on his face. It was _glorious_ – her body trembled a little, then her legs fell limply on his side.  
  
The woman closed her eyes, still panting, all the while he kept peppering kisses on her legs and belly, hugging the bottom part of her and catching his breath.  
  
She perched herself up on one elbow moments later, and from that perspective, from the bottom down, she looked about as bright as sunshine.  
  
“ _I_ … You… _That_ was…”  
  
“I know…”

* * *

Robin could tell he was _smug_.  
  
He had his cheek resting on her inner thigh as he looked up at her, lips curled up slightly. The man remained silent, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the unusually receptive skin of her legs.  
  
Traces of her pleasure twinkled on his face under the dim light coming off the small chandelier.  
  
The sight was a tantalizing reminder of what he had just done, and how much she had liked it, so she couldn’t really blame him if he thought he had done a good job, because, _honestly_ , it had been a _fucking_ masterpiece.  
  
_Pity_ that she was still too shaken to translate her thoughts into coherent words.   
  
Zoro had stirred up feelings and sensations in her body she had long since forgotten, neglected even; with the same confidence with which he wielded his blades during a fight, he had caressed her body with hungry, needy fingers, and kissed her with a devotion so deep she had almost wanted to _cry_ as her release had exploded in fireworks behind closed eyelids. The fire within her, however, was far from placated.  
  
She beckoned him forward with one finger. “Come here”.  
  
The swordsman didn’t need to be told twice and adjusted himself on top of her still naked form. He tried to cover as much of her as he could with his body, so that she wouldn’t get cold and, _Kami forbid_ , dress up again.  
  
Robin’s arms sneaked around his neck and she took a deep breath, tilting his face up to plant a heavy kiss on his lips.  
  
With heavy, Zoro meant that it was far from simple, because it felt as if she was trying to tell him something with it; he was startled upon realizing she was _thanking_ him, but he hoped the archaeologist knew that she was exceptionally welcome. He could have done it everyday for the rest of his life and never grew tired of it, he believed.  
  
Her hands roamed his upper body, assertively, and with every caress he could feel some of the tension he had accumulated over the past days melt away under her fingertips. She started from his back, following the tight line of his deltoids, then traced his spine, slowly, before she reached further down and… she pinched his _butt_.  
  
She turned her face then, gliding her tongue up his jaw before sucking on his earlobe, tongue playing with his earrings. That woman was _not_ fooling around, he realized, as she whispered a throaty “Take off your clothes” in his ear.   
  
On his part, Zoro was more than eager to satisfy her request. His pants, albeit comfortable, had long since tightened considerably on the front, choking his swelling bulge, and he felt instant relief upon releasing the first button.  
  
She seemed to reconsider her previous request, however, because she swatted his hands away and undid the zip herself. Sliding his pants down, she got started on his underwear as he kicked his legs back to get rid of the unnecessary garment. He found himself unable to avert his eye from those beautiful blue irises, or the subtly dilated pupils, as careful digits ran over the outline of his manhood, then circled around the tip and rubbed it leisurely with her thumb.  
  
The action prompted a feral growl from the swordsman, who then bit her shoulder in retaliation.  
  
Robin was taller than him, so he had to look up, as they both knelt on the mattress, to see the coy smile that curled up her lips as the final piece of clothing slid down his hips, aided by curious hands. Her eyes trailed down his body, he could feel them sizing him up as her mind probably flew to the same thing he was thinking about.  
  
(He had always been satisfied with what his haramaki hid from the rest of the world, and so had seemed to feel his sporadic sexual partners, but one thing was to show his body to a stranger, and another was to bare himself for the woman he loved; he couldn’t help but feeling a tad anxious about her current examination. He would have lied if he said she didn’t wield the power to destroy a huge chunk of his confidence in a mere matter of seconds.)  
  
She hummed in acknowledgement – or was that _appreciation_? – and her nails scraped lightly at the short, dark hair at the base of his shaft. That was all it took for Zoro to lose whatever self-control he had left by that point, which wasn’t _much_ , because just the idea she was about to engage his penis _directly_ , with those small, featherlight hands of her… well, it sent a primal impulse to his brain, and, all other thoughts disregarded, he _dashed_.   
  
Her thong ripped under the pressure desperate fingers applied to it, the tiny piece of red fabric falling off her not unlike a leaf separated from its tree in November’s wind. Now that her naked, lithe body was exposed in its entirety, the swordsman took a long moment to admire the beautiful sight; supple breasts were pushed down by gravity, whereas her ribcage dipped delicately into a tiny waist before the sides of her body widened again to accommodate the curve of her hips. Her skin was soft, and it felt scorching hot as it whimpered under Zoro’s when his mouth claimed her clavicle once again, licking and sucking on a spot that felt particularly appealing to his mouth until it turned purple.  
  
His right hand begrudgingly let go of the pesky nipple it was teasing and reached down. He grabbed his throbbing cock and guided it between her legs, teasing her with the head; he rubbed it on top of the tiny bean he knew to be the key to her carnal surrender, then slid it lower, and stilled.  
  
Robin was molten clay in his hands, lungs struggling to keep up with her laboured breath.  
  
She squirmed, and scratched his back, she wrapped one arm around his neck and pushed his face closer to the breast his attention was currently dedicated to; when a louder moan escaped her stubbornly closed lips, the man considered pushing his boundaries, see if he could make her _beg_ for it, but he knew that such an attempt could easily turn into a double-edged weapon: he wasn’t fairing any better than her, he was _so_ turned on he was afraid his back would snap if he arched it any further. When the archaeologist parted her legs in a clear invite, he obliged her instantly.  
  
Tilting his head up to kiss her on the mouth again, he aligned himself to her entrance, slipping inside for about half of his length. He skidded to a halt, relishing in the way her soft body stretched to accommodate him. He backtracked, pushing his hips back and himself out of her almost completely, then sunk back inside, and filled her a little bit more.  
  
Zoro repeated the same process again and again, like a sort of litany, as he steadied himself and tried to recollect his thoughts. It had taken all the unnatural self-control he had honed with years upon years of meditation not to _burst_ as soon as his erection met her most intimate part, so he moved rather slowly at first.  
  
Rolling his hips experimentally, the green-haired man was hypnotized by how easily they connected to his.  
  
He was still holding back, giving her the time to adjust to the intrusion, and peppered her face, jaw and general neck area with kisses until something eventually snapped in his partner, because she brought her long legs up and locked them behind his back, nudging him deeper inside with a swift kick of her heels.  
  
Two things occurred to him at once; his balls had never tingled as much as they did now, nor had he ever felt as positively ecstatic. Buried inside her to the hilt, every muscle in his body crooned as he started moving.  
  
At first somewhat gently, with long, deliberate strokes; sheathing and unsheathing himself in her body not unlike the way either of his blades would graze the fronds of a tree he didn’t quite mean to cut, the swordsman plunged in and out of her tight, warm hole. Robin shifted her hips, meeting his thrusts, as the grip her thighs kept on his waist tightened.  
  
She pulled his hair and dug her nails on his back, but he barely noticed as all he could focus on was the rabid heat he felt between his legs, and consequentially hers; there was no easy way to describe it, but the liquid fire that burnt right where their bodies met one another made it exceptionally hard for the swordsman to keep up with his merciless pace.  
  
Times of _adagio_ were followed by _allegretto_ , he would go excruciatingly slow and then suddenly increase his speed, only to return to calmer, gentler movements every time her breath itched and she smashed her hips harder on Zoro’s. Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to be torturing her as such, purposefully delaying her release, but he found it that he wanted the moment to last as long as it possibly could, he wanted to give her as much pleasure as his body allowed.  
  
Moving her legs to one side, he threw them over his shoulders, one hand wrapped around her ankle to keep them in place. He bit her calf, then kissed tenderly the injured portion of skin as he shifted slightly on his knees, using his free hand to clutch at her hip; he could hit a deeper angle this way, and she seemingly got wetter as any second rolled by.  
  
Her arms rested on either side of her face, her head thrown back as small gasps toppled out of swollen parted lips.  
  
(Zoro was certain only a knock on the head and nothing short of amnesia could make him forget the vision before him.)  
  
Shaky breaths turned into shameless moans as the swordsman surrendered and finally gave in to the urge to dive in a little harder and a little faster with each movement, releasing his hold on her hip to draw his hand between her legs. There he rubbed two digits over her clit, tuning his fingers to the same rhythm with which he plummeted in and out of her.  
  
Robin made an odd little sound then, and her back arched even more. He could tell it wouldn’t have been long before she reached the point of no return – _thankfully_ , because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with this, no matter what kind of horrifying image he tried to summon mentally – as a sudden tension started to build up in her body, head to toe. Maybe it was just his imagination, but even her insides felt _tighter_ somehow.  
  
Although he was barely able to hear her over his own, laboured breath, the archaeologist mumbled something disconnected, the tone of her voice pushing him across the edge just as much as the content of her words.  
  
( _Yes_. _Harder_. A lot of affirmatives, for sure. His name was the best out of the sounds that slipped out of her mouth).  
  
Groaning, as a familiar tingling gathered at the bottom of his spine and he could feel his own body stiffen up as it prepared for his release, he complied to her request. Zoro didn’t lack strength, nor speed. He fucked her more roughly, he held to her legs for dear life and bent them closer to her chest.  
  
He enjoyed every second of it.   
  
Soon enough a higher-pitched sound jumped out of her throat, and her inner walls clenched around him, almost as if they wanted to suck him in even deeper. As Robin so beautifully came undone before his eye, trained on her face so that he wouldn’t miss a single detail, it wasn’t much longer before the swordsman joined her.  
  
After a particularly well-angled thrust, the man went completely still, stars flashing before closed eyelids as he poured out the seeds of his pleasure; it hit him like a bag of bricks, it was a longer orgasm than usual, and it made his legs weak. He slipped out of her body and his hand accompanied her legs back to the mattress, then he let himself fall next to her, securing one hand safely around her waist, face hidden in her still naked chest.  
  
There, he listened to the thunderous beat of her heart for what felt like hours.

* * *

Robin had hugged him. She had wrapped her arms around him and threaded her fingers through his hair, softly, and she had scratched the nape of his neck. If only he hadn’t been aware of how _peculiar_ the present moment was, there was no doubt the swordsman, as drained out, contented and positively exhausted as he was, would have fallen asleep.  
  
But he didn’t. He remained there, silent, pillowed by her chest, inhaling her scent as deeply as he humanly could.  
  
She hadn’t said a word, and neither had he, too scared it would break off the spell. If fate wanted for the archaeologist to kick him out of her room and say she regretted this, he wanted to at least enjoy the fragile calm before the storm until it lasted.  
  
Only she never pushed him away, she laid on the bed next to him with a thoughtful look and the hint of a smile on her slightly puckered up lips.  
  
He considered whether he could reach up and kiss her.  
  
The woman could feel his not-so-subtle gaze, so she grabbed his chin and tilted his head back, forcing him to stare directly into her eyes.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
For pride or for embarrassment, the swordsman only shot her a questioning look.  
  
“I could see the gears turning in your head”, Robin elaborated.  
  
“ _Yeah_?”, he retorted. “Same here. What are _you_ thinking about?”   
  
She fixed him with a neutral glare. “Just that I wasn’t expecting our sail to Wano to get quite this… exciting”.  
  
She didn’t seem to regret what had transpired between them thus far, which he took as a good signal, but she still appeared somewhat cautious, as if she still wasn’t sure where she stood with him.  
  
He felt the need to make himself clear once more. “…Did I really make you question whether I _hated_ you?”   
  
Robin took her sweet time before she answered, considering her words carefully.  
  
“Like I said, I’ve always known that you don’t, or else you wouldn’t have risked your life for me so many times that I lost count…”  
  
(He hadn’t. _Thirty-three_. Thirty-free times he had almost let her get hurt. He knew how many times she was actually injured, too, but he didn’t want to dwell on that number now.)  
  
“…I could tell you were bothered by me in some capacity, but I didn’t know why. I figured something still irked you about the way I first joined the crew and hoped you would eventually talk to me about it”.  
  
“But I didn’t”, Zoro noted. “I’m sorry, Robin”.  
  
“ _Oh_ , well, I find that I don’t mind it that much now that I know why you acted the way you did”, she replied, wistfully. “I’m just mad at whomever hurt you so bad as a child that you were going _not_ to tell me”.  
  
He laughed, but he didn’t deny her assumption. He propped his head on his hand, and said, “Look, I… I am not great at this stuff, as you can see, but I want you to know that nothing is wrong about the way you joined us, because you did. That goes beyond how I personally feel about you”.  
  
“When did you…”, the archaeologist hesitated, narrowing her brows.   
  
Zoro wondered what she wanted to know: when it started, when he realized or when he admitted it, at least to himself.  
  
To this very day, only two people knew about it, Hawk-Eyes and Perona, and only because they had been the unfortunate witnesses to his pining over the two years he had been apart from her, eventually putting two and two together.  
  
They hadn’t judged him, though, and in turn the swordsman hadn’t judged their relationship.  
  
He went for the latter. “Right after Kuma…”, he trailed off, knowing those three simple words were more than evocative. He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks, but he soldiered on. “I guess you could say something wasn’t already quite right with me when I fought Kaku for his key. Something just snapped when he made it personal”.  
  
“I see”. Robin’s expression softened, and she smiled at him. “Thank you for telling me”.  
  
She seemed to know it was extremely hard for him to elaborate on this type of things, and the fact she didn’t prod him for more information, as if trusting he would share more in his own time, made him love her all the more.

* * *

The pair had moved under the bedsheets after he had put his underwear back on and handed her his t-shirt.  
  
Now they laid next to one another on the mattress and Zoro had one arm around her shoulders; he caressed her hair in lazy strokes as she rested her head on his chest, fingers tracing his scars with featherlight touch, like she was afraid his skin would crack if she applied even the smallest pressure to it.  
  
She was less chatty than usual, and quite contemplative, but the swordsman found that he didn’t mind the silence if she let her hold so close to him, with their legs tangled and her warm breath brushing over his skin. If anything, it relaxed him quite a bit, to the point he didn’t even move when Robin draped herself across her body to switch off the lights.  
  
She pecked him lightly on the lips, thinking he had already fallen asleep. “Goodnight, Zoro”.  
  
A small yelp escaped her lips as the man grabbed a handful of the blue fabric and gave her an open-mouthed kiss not unlike the ones he had bestowed upon her earlier, hugging her with both arms when he pulled away.  
  
“Goodnight, Robin”.  
  
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, squinting his eye to see in the darkness. She, too, looked just as tired as he felt, like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, a sleepy smile curling up her lips.  
  
That night, it took them but to close their eyes to fall asleep.

* * *

* * *

Usopp rushed down the stairs, then made a right turn and followed the hallway until the doors became fewer and the temperature raised, fidgeting with the _Den Den Mushi_ in his hands.  
  
It was part of a set and it had costed the Straw-Hats a fortune, as the navigator often liked to remind her crewmates, but the group directed to Zou had taken the other, and ten minutes ago, as the marksman had been under the shower, it rung.  
  
Perhaps it never happened, perhaps he had imagined the whole thing.  
  
His heart ached for his distant nakama and he often wondered whether they were alright, if their journey was proceeding as it should have… maybe his brain was just messing with him, and the device had remained silent, but if it didn’t…  
  
Usopp couldn’t trust himself with such a responsibility. If there was even the slightest chance Nami’s voice would pipe up on the other side of the line this morning, he couldn’t risk it. He needed to know if she was okay.  
  
Despite the woman leaving everything (him) behind for _another_ , concern was still eating him alive.   
  
Luckily for the sniper, he knew just who to seek for help.  
  
He skidded to a halt as he stumbled upon the familiar door, white and pristine as the rest of the captain’s quarters. Hoping their resident archaeologist was already up, he raised up a fist and got ready to knock on the door but stopped as he heard the woman’s feminine giggles coming from inside the room, followed by a lower, quieter grumble.   
  
If he hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn that was Zoro’s voice.  
  
But what could he possibly have been doing inside her room so early? He wasn’t an early riser, unless the circumstances especially called for it.  
  
The thought he had slept there crossed his mind, but he shushed it away. That was just _preposterous_.  
  
Unsure what to do, Usopp stood in front of the closed door, stroking his chin.  
  
A gasp could be heard then, followed by a strangled sound; thinking someone was attacking Robin, he braced himself to barge into the room, but suddenly, and it sent a cold shiver down his spine, for the image would have been forever burnt in his brain, the woman spoke. Her words, unlike the swordsman’s, were unmistakable, and he nearly fainted as a result.  
  
“ _Fuck yes_ ”.  
  
_Oh, no, not this again_...  
  
After spending the whole night with a pillow pressed over his head, trying to distract himself with every thought he could think of (many included orange-hair, a beautiful smile, perfect knowledge of weather phenomena and an unapologetic love for money and luxury) as the people next door had their first, _disastrous_ , from what he heard, go at bondage... _No_ , his brain refused to compute. 

* * *

He had decided to ask Franky instead.  
  
Even waking up that absolute bear was better than facing two of the scariest members of the crew.  
  
He loved Robin and Zoro, they were his precious nakama, but he _valued_ his life, even if following someone as moody as his captain at sea suggested otherwise.  
  
On his way back to the upper floor, sea-snail still clasped in his hands, Usopp took the mental vow not to go up to the crew’s nest in the future, when the Straw-Hats were finally back on the _Sunny_ and either the swordsman or the archaeologist were taking the night watch.  
  
It was horrific enough to be the only one who knew about them.  
  
He suspected they were going to keep it to themselves for a while there, understandably, but he still hoped the truth would come out one way or the other, because for the first time ever he had gambled against Nami and won.  
  
The navigator owed him five hundred belies and Zoro wasn’t _gay_. Or in love with _Sanji_.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Zorobin Christmas! 💖


End file.
